


We Don't Fight for Fools

by Bortron86



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Dork Callum (The Dragon Prince), Established Callum/Rayla (The Dragon Prince), F/M, Rayla-centric (The Dragon Prince), Teen Callum (The Dragon Prince), Teen Romance, Tired Rayla (The Dragon Prince)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:00:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25384942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bortron86/pseuds/Bortron86
Summary: As Rayla struggles to sleep on the eve of a major event, Callum has a question about moonshadow culture.
Relationships: Callum & Rayla (The Dragon Prince), Callum/Rayla (The Dragon Prince)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 67





	We Don't Fight for Fools

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at fan-fic, and the first in a series of scenes I have planned about Rayla and Callum. Following the battle at the Storm Spire, they finally get some time to try and put their own lives back together, and look forward to their future together. Obviously, there is plenty of Rayllum fluff, but also some headcanon I have around a part of moonshadow elf culture. I hope you enjoy it!

* * *

_Who the hell am I if I don't even try?_

_I'm not a coward, oh no, I'll be strong._

_One chance in a lifetime._

_Yes, I will take it, it can't go wrong._

* * *

Rayla had always had trouble sleeping, ever since she was a baby. Insomnia had led her to have many lonely nights, laying awake in total silence, with negative thoughts that could grow ever more intrusive. Tonight, they were more intrusive than usual. She knew what lay ahead tomorrow. It could all go so wrong.

As she lay on the ground looking up at the stars through the tall forest trees, she was at least grateful to have someone to cuddle up with, providing warmth and quiet reassurance, letting her know that she wasn’t alone.

But of course, the shadowpaw wasn’t the only one laying next to her. Her view was suddenly obscured by the far-too-eager face of a curious mage.

“So what are your face marking thingies for?” Callum asked, speaking quickly like an inquisitive child.

Rayla rolled her eyes, then glared up at him. “Callum, remember how I said to go to sleep, and only talk if it was an emergency?”

He nodded. “Yes, but this _is_ an emergency. I won’t be able to sleep without finding out. And you know how much trouble I can get into if I don’t sleep.”

She remembered well the incident a few days earlier, when Callum had stayed up all night practicing sky magic with some spells that Ibis had written down. He dozed off while they were riding the shadowpaw, and lost his grip on Rayla’s waist. Luckily, he just suffered some grazes and bruises, minor enough that Rayla could have a good laugh at his expense.

“Please?” he asked, looking down at her with big, green eyes, and the sweetest smile that he could muster.

She sighed, and rolled onto her side to face him. “Fine. You’re just lucky I think you’re cute,” she said, unable to resist his gaze for long. He laid down next to her, ready to learn, but grinning like an idiot at hearing her say he was cute.

“In moonshadow culture we call them _crechad_ , or just markings” she continued. “We use pigment from moon woad, which is a strong indigo colour. Under a full moon, there’s enough magical energy for the pigment to get deep into our skin when it’s painted on. It lasts for about six months.”

Callum looked as closely at the markings as he could without pressing his face to hers. “I’ve never really noticed, but they are really even and bold.” He leaned back again. “So, what are they for? What do they mean?”

“Well, the first moonshadow elves used them to identify each other when they were in their moonshadow form. In that form, we kind of… reflect back an image of our surroundings, so when you see us, you actually see the image of whatever’s behind us. But where we have crechad, we can’t reflect it. So if you looked at my moonshadow form, you’d see these wee bits here.” She traced her index fingers along the markings underneath her eyes.

“Wow, that’s so clever. Does everyone have totally different _crechad_?” he asked, taking care to pronounce the word correctly. “I remember Ethari’s being pretty different from yours, and Runaan’s.”

“Pretty much, yeah. Unless we’re really trying to be stealthy, we don’t really use our moonshadow form anyway. So they kinda became more of a cultural thing. Everyone’s crechad tell you something about who they are, where they’re from. When you’re born, your parents choose your first markings, so my parents chose these for me.”

She paused for a couple of seconds, as she thought about the times her parents had re-painted them for her when she was a wee elf. Callum could tell exactly what Rayla was thinking, and reached out to hold her hand. He didn’t have to say anything; it was enough to make Rayla smile, and thank the moon and stars that she had him.

She soon felt able to carry on. “When you’re from the Silvergrove, you get markings somewhere around your eyes. Runaan was from another village, so his started on just his nose. When you’re old enough to know your trade, you’ll get markings on your arms, shoulders, chest, all over really, that show what you do, things you’ve achieved, how skilled you are. That’s why Ethari’s got so many markings, he’s the best blacksmith and craftsman _anywhere_.”

She looked down at the visible parts of her own arms, with a feeling of resignation. “And that’s why I’ve got none, cos I’m an assassin that’s never killed anyone, and doesn’t even want to be one any more.”

Callum weaved his fingers in between Rayla’s. Her four long, slender digits fit perfectly in the gaps between his five shorter ones. “How many times do I need to tell you that none of that is a bad thing?” he said, a concerned look on his face. “I hope there are markings for general, all-round warrior-heroes that you can get.”

She blushed a little, her pointed ears twitching slightly. “Thanks Callum,” she said, offering a slightly embarrassed smile. “Anyway, I think that’s it… Oh no, one more thing! When we marry, we often change our facial markings. Runaan had his extended to underneath his eyes, to show the SIlvergrove was now his home too. My parents made theirs look pretty similar, to show their bond.”

Callum remembered Lain and Tiadrin’s markings from casting _historia viventum_ at the storm spire. He pulled his hand away from Rayla’s, using it to prop himself up a little. “So someday, when I’ve learned the moon arcanum, and we get married, then maybe I can get some like yours!”

Rayla chuckled, turning onto her back and looking at the stars again. “Well, we can’t get married until we’re eighteen anyway, so I wouldn’t start sketching any desi-oh-by-the-dragons, you’re already sketching designs, aren’t you?” she said, realising as she spoke that she could hear the scratch of charcoal on paper.

She looked over to see Callum hunched over his sketchbook, scribbling away. He looked down at her, snapping the book shut and looking guilty, like a kid caught with his hand in the jelly tart jar. “No! Well, maybe, sort of, yes.” He smiled nervously. “Sorry. You, er, know how I can get a bit carried away sometimes.”

“It’s OK,” Rayla said, laughing at his eternal enthusiasm. “Although I have to say, if I ever do get married, it’s going to be to someone who always gets a _really_ _good night’s sleep_.” She smirked up at him, hoping he’d get the hint.

She needn’t have worried. She’d never seen Callum move as quickly as he did next, seeming to put down his sketchbook, pull a blanket over himself, and lay down in one fluid motion. He closed his eyes, but opened one eye briefly a few seconds later to see if Rayla was still watching him. She was, and couldn’t help laughing when he realised and instantly shut his eye again.

Pulling herself closer to Callum, she kissed him gently on his cheek. She then laid her head on his shoulder, and rested her hand on his chest. “I love you, ya silly wee mage,” she said softly.

He smiled, nuzzling his head against hers. “I love you too, warrior-hero,” he replied, making her chuckle and blush again. “’Night, Rayla.” He kissed the top of her head, right between the bases of her horns.

“G’night, Callum,” she said. She could feel his chest rising and falling underneath her hand, and knew he was falling asleep when his breathing eventually became slower and deeper.

Her thoughts turned to the next morning. Finally, she’d be back at the Silvergrove, and she was no longer a ghost. She was so excited to see Ethari again, finally able to spend time with what remained of her family. And ready, she hoped, to tell him about the boy she loved.

But she was worried, too. She wouldn’t be a ghost any more, but would the others really accept her again? After all, Zubeia had lifted her banishment, not them. She disobeyed her orders, and got the other assassins killed, including Runaan, who raised her. Even Ethari might not want to know her after he heard the full story.

She screwed her face up in anguish at the thought of losing him, clutching her hand to her chest. But opening her eyes again, and seeing Callum’s peaceful face next to her, she felt her inner strength rising again. No, she wasn’t going to be scared. This was her only chance to have her home back. She was going to take it with both hands.

Rayla felt the shadowpaw shift up to her, softly groaning as he stretched out and laid against her back. He couldn’t wait to see Ethari again either.


End file.
